Class B was deployed at the island's northernmost tip, positioned at its top left corner. Here, they faced the daunting task of not only navigating the challenging terrain but also confronting and outmaneuvering their adversaries who stood in their path.
The group gathered closely around their leader, the air thick with tension and anticipation.
One of the students, nervously clutching their weapon, spoke up with a hesitant voice.
"Leader, what should we do?"
The leader turned to face them, his piercing gaze sharp enough to cut through the anxiety gripping the group.
His expression was calm yet commanding, his every word imbued with a sense of calculated authority that demanded attention.
"Class A is the only real threat. We'll move forward, and we'll eventually clash with them. Their strategy will be a mix of offense and defense, something stable, something reliable. The moment we show even the slightest vulnerability, that's when they'll strike. And when they do, we'll be done."
"Leader, if I may add," Nepo interjected, his tone steady and laced with confidence.
"If our primary goal is to eliminate Class A, what's our plan for the other classes we're bound to encounter along the way? They're not just going to step aside and let us take the lead—or let us shoot them without a fight. Engaging them could slow us down significantly."
Class A had already assumed their positions, confident in what they believed was a solid strategy, but in reality, they had unknowingly made themselves a target, vulnerable to attack.
Up front, near the sector between Mount A and B, Class B students began gathering, preparing their assault. Soon, bullets began to rain down in rapid succession. The students on Mount A and B, however, held the advantage, positioned on higher ground, giving them a natural shield and a better vantage point to defend themselves.
It was an all out attack from Class B not one student was missing, It made it look very clear that their desperation for the removal of Class A was Imminent.
3 Shooters hidden, Shooting at the Students up above on that mountain, and the other 2 making their way around at the back.
Bang! Bang!
"I already figured out Luther and Vardia's little scheme," Breezy said with a grin, his voice dripping with confidence, "it's so simple, it's almost like they're just tryin' to mess with me."
Two students from Class B, Nate and Fin, moved quietly under Breezy's orders, staying in the shadows while the shooters up top was distracted with gunfire coming from a specific direction.
Breezy had already worked out the trap, he knew there had to be a hidden shooter lurking, waiting for anyone to try and ambush them from behind.
And when that happened, that shooter would be ready to strike, no hesitation, no mercy.
One by one, students from Class A had fallen, first Mountain A, then B, then C, and finally D, all of them eliminated, until only Luther and Vardia remained.
Despite the situation seeming to favor Breezy, something in the air felt wrong. He wasn't one to let his confidence falter—his ego was part of him, but he knew how to mask his doubts, hiding them behind a calculated exterior.
This situation was too simple, too clean.
"If this were a game, there's no way it's this easy. Could be a trap, a plan to make me drop my guard, but... how? All of them gone without a fight? It doesn't add up," Breezy thought, his expression unreadable. "Luther and Vardia, they've got something. A flaw in the rules, perhaps? A hidden weakness I haven't seen yet. But they wouldn't be so careless to let me walk all over them... unless... No, that's too obvious. Did they simply surrender? That doesn't fit the pattern. Their setup wasn't that of people who give up." He paused, his eyes narrowing, as if the answer might reveal itself in the silence. "There's more to this, and I'll find it, piece by piece. I'm not one to miss details."
His hand slowly moved to his face, the cold wind slicing through his long hair as he knelt on one knee. His posture was relaxed, but every muscle in his body was poised, ready.
The wind whipped around him, but his focus remained sharp, calculating every possible angle of the situation. Breezy wasn't rattled—he was in control, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Soon, every student from Class B, having successfully eliminated all the students from Class A, made their way back to their leader, standing tall and confident, their faces showing a strange mixture of pride and expectation, as though they were waiting for their leader to acknowledge their success and praise them for their efforts.
None of them spoke a word, the silence hanging in the air, heavy with anticipation. Their eyes were sharp, their posture rigid, but the unspoken expectation of recognition was clear to anyone who looked at them.
"My leader, as you can see, we have successfully wiped out Class A from this event entirely," Heart said, her voice devoid of any warmth or excitement, flat and emotionless as always, "which means it won't be long before we win, eventually," she added, her tone as cold and precise as ever, offering no sense of pride, only the bare facts, as if the outcome was already inevitable, her expression unchanged, offering no hint of satisfaction or urgency, simply stating the situation as it was.
The leader of this army stood silent, a figure who was usually cold and ferocious now surrounded by an aura of unnerving stillness, his presence alone radiating an intimidating power, his eyes sharp and unblinking, their focus so intense that even the words of his subordinates seemed unable to reach him, the air around him heavy with an unspoken tension, until finally, he shifted from his position.
Without a word, he began walking, his hands buried in his pockets, heading toward the distant shoreline where the beach stretched out endlessly, the sun lowering itself into the horizon, casting an orange glow that danced across the waves, the light reflecting against the surface of the ocean like fire meeting water, as the sound of the waves whispered in the quiet.
"LEADER, IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG?!" Lenard called out, his voice loud and urgent, desperate to pierce the silence and understand why his leader was leaving so abruptly, his words carrying across the air, hoping to reach the figure now moving farther away.
Soon, they began following him, their footsteps muffled by the soft sand beneath them, the crashing waves of the ocean echoing around them as the cold wind of the approaching night brushed against their faces, the air carrying a quiet tension as they walked along the coast, keeping a steady pace behind their leader, who remained silent and unwavering.
Eventually, their journey brought them to a sight that made them stop in their tracks—the leaders of Class A, Luther and Vardia, standing there as if they had been waiting all along, their postures casual and relaxed, their faces painted with smirks that spoke volumes, an infuriating mix of confidence and mockery.
"NOT SO CONFIDENT NOW, HUH, CLASS A?! WE COMPLETELY ELIMINATED YOU IN JUST ONE DAY, HAHAHA, GET FUCKING DESTROYED!" Parker shouted from the back, his voice loud and brash, his messy black hair bouncing as he laughed, the small scar on his forehead catching the dimming light of the evening, his whole demeanor screaming of someone who wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.
The students of Class B began shouting insults at the leaders of Class A, their words cutting through the air with venom, but Luther and Vardia stood unfazed, their expressions unchanged, their smirks growing wider with each passing second, as if they were feeding off the rage, the lack of reaction only made Class B angrier, their voices rising, the tension thickening with every moment.
In the midst of this commotion, everyone seemed to forget the presence of Breezy, who moved forward with quiet intent, stepping closer until he was face to face with Luther and Vardia, the space between them so narrow it looked as though he might kiss them, his presence silenced the noise around him, drawing every gaze, though he appeared to notice none of it.
Breezy tilted his head slightly to the left, his sharp right eye locking onto Luther's with a cold, unyielding focus, his gaze steady and unblinking, like a predator sizing up its prey, Luther flinched, the smallest crack in his composure, before Vardia placed a hand on his stomach, steadying him with a look of amusement, her confidence unwavering.
"Trying to see what we're hiding, are we?" Vardia said, her voice calm and measured, her tone laced with just enough mockery to provoke.
"You're up to something," Breezy replied, his voice low and controlled, stripped of any unnecessary flair, "I'll figure it out, eventually, you're not weak enough to fall in a day," his tone carried no emotion, no doubt, just a cold certainty that made his words cut deeper, the rare calmness in his voice made it impossible to tell whether he was confused, suspicious, or simply preparing for what was to come.
"Oh, I'm blushing at the attention," Vardia said, a sly grin spreading across her face, her words dripping with sarcasm, "But you're not far from us either, are you, Breezy? Back in primary school, they called you the Owl, didn't they? For your sharp observation and logical reasoning," she continued, her voice steady, yet piercing, loud enough for him to hear every word clearly, "But then you took up martial arts, boxing, wasn't it? To pay off your mother's debt, and even after all that, they took her from you, those agents from the gambling company," her words lingered, cutting through the silence like a blade, "You hunted them down, didn't you, tracked them like prey, killed them, tell me, did I get anything wrong?"
"No"
Ivory searched everywhere, his eyes scanning the area, but no matter how much he looked, he couldn't find them, frustration began to creep in as he ventured deeper into the dangerous terrain.
The forest around him grew denser, the air heavier, until he saw a wall of thick leaves that seemed like a dead end, letting out a sigh, he turned to head back, but as he shifted his weight, his foot landed awkwardly on a rock, tilting at an odd angle, throwing him off balance, he stumbled, nearly falling to the ground, only managing to catch himself at the last second.
However, his relief was short-lived, as his left foot slipped on the uneven ground, sending him tumbling forward, he rolled uncontrollably, the world spinning around him as he closed his eyes tight, his arms instinctively wrapping around his head to shield it from harm, his body curled into a ball as the rough terrain dragged him downward.
The fall seemed endless until, suddenly, the harsh shade of the forest gave way to light, the night above opened up, and the light of the moon touched his face.
When he finally stopped rolling, he found himself on the other side of the thick leaves, the area was enclosed, surrounded by walls of greenery, the dense foliage forming a natural barrier, cutting it off from the rest of the forest, ahead of him, a faint pathway began to emerge, leading somewhere unknown, his breathing was heavy, his muscles sore from the fall, but his curiosity overpowered his pain as he slowly stood, taking in the secluded, almost otherworldly place he had stumbled upon.
Ivory wandered cautiously along the pathway, the incline leading him upward, until his gaze fell upon a towering structure in the distance, his breath caught as he took in its massive size, the imposing tower loomed over the landscape, its shadow stretching far and wide.
"Wait... this has to be the Tower of Porthal," he murmured to himself, his voice low but filled with a mix of wonder and unease, "The one they always warned us to stay away from... Holy crap, it's even bigger than I imagined, is this where that Queen died?"
As he moved closer, the details of the area around the tower came into focus, a breathtaking garden of deep red roses encircled the structure, their vibrant petals stark against the gray stone of the tower, Ivory paused, marveling at the scene, though danger might have lurked here, he couldn't help but admire the beauty, it was the kind of place that commanded reverence, he didn't dare step too close to the rose bushes, something about them felt sacred.
Approaching the tower's entrance, he noticed a sword standing upright, embedded in a smooth rectangular stone, its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light, directly in front of the sword was a stone tablet, its weathered surface carved with markings, the scene before him was haunting yet captivating, pulling him forward despite the weight of the warnings echoing in his mind.
- "Here lies Excalibur, the blade of destiny and the soul of the king. As the sword stands unyielding, so too does the hope of the people endure. A king's sacrifice, etched in steel, forever guiding his kingdom's light."
After reading the tablet, Ivory felt a faint memory resurface from his childhood, it was a story he had read long ago, during the times when his parents couldn't be with him, Most of his early years were spent in solitude.
The house often silent except for the ticking of a clock or the occasional sound from the street outside, though his parents clearly loved him, their work kept them away for long stretches, sometimes they wouldn't return home for days, leaving him alone with his thoughts and whatever books he could find.
This particular story had stayed with him, even as the details blurred over time, it was one of those tales that etched itself into his mind, offering some small comfort in those lonely hours.
The book that brought all of this flooding back to him was Pendragon, a tale about King Arthur during the war, the kingdom of Pendragon ruled by Arthur, the man who brought an end to the war, but in doing so, he sacrificed his own life for his people, his love, and his beliefs.
As a child, Ivory had read this story, thinking how incredible Arthur was, and from that point, he dreamed of becoming a ruler himself, a ruler who would lead for the greater good of the people he cared for, but as he grew older, his thoughts began to shift, new ideas and perspectives started to shape his view of the world, King Arthur hadn't wanted to be a king, he had to be, but he still loved his people, what had driven him, what made him sacrifice everything for them?
For much of his youth, Ivory had admired Arthur and his achievements, but the older he got, the more he understood the sadness behind Arthur Pendragon's life.
The weight of responsibility that crushed him, the endless cycle of watching others die, living in constant fear that every battle could be his last, no one would want to live that kind of life, and Ivory found himself agreeing with that thought more and more.
Yet, despite all of that, the question always circled back to why, why had Arthur done it, and today, standing before the blade of Excalibur, Ivory felt he finally understood, Excalibur wasn't just a sword, it was the heart and soul of the people of Pendragon.
In the end, Arthur didn't discard it as a useless piece of steel, he thrust it into the ground, a symbol that his will, his spirit, would live on through the sword, through his people, through everything he had fought for.